The Apparition: Horizon
by James Rylee 18
Summary: What happens when the world is balanced by natural love? All dimensions become level with each other, stepping between them is easy as breath. But for Hog, plagued by his memories, the dimensions only make his past more prevalent. The gods are at war with Jareth and his bride, while Hog searches faithfully for the purple-eyed memory he has sworn to forget.
1. Chapter 1

He could feel the moment when all of the pieces came into place perfectly and the world shifted. For him, there was an immediate change; his body stretched and it felt like the ache of a yawn on the jaw, so when it ceased he was another three feet taller and his eyes grew wet with the relief. His white hair colored to what it had been in his youth, a charmingly soft yellow. His skin was still rough and tanned, and worn by living, as it had always been, but his body was stately, wide and robust. He had not been this way in thousands of years, not since he was young and alive living in the western mountains.

The mountain air had kept him strong, though of a shorter build then his companions, he was resilient and well capable with tools, different than his tribe members. The mountain side village smelled of leather and baked bread, his world was gentle and young. Around him the Labyrinth sighed, waking him from his memories with a bittersweet cry of delight. He was himself again. He was… Sort of a man again.

"Hog-man." A bright eyed boy of maybe eight came bounding around the corner, smiling brightly.

"Is that… Ludo?"

The orange hair on the boy's head was proof enough that the young yeti that had been companion to Hoggle and the others was indeed this child. It was easy to forget over the many years as a cowering dwarf that the Labyrinth changed any and all who entered it. Sometimes to match what was on the inside.

"Hoggle!" Ludo leaped into the man's arms. He was light but still weighty enough for Hog to almost drop him upon impact. "We've changed! I'm me again and I'm alive!"

Hog laughed happily and hugged the boy. "I did not know you were so young my friend."

"No?" The boy leaned back in his grip to look at him with handsome dark eyes. Hog finally noticed the way he was dressed, surprisingly rich, in a clean purple tunic and black pants. He wore no shoes on his small feet, but as a child he was sure not to care. "I am almost nine."

"I see that. Quite a handsome fellow ye' are too, my lad."

Sounds of delight were all around them as the people and creatures of the Labyrinth were being restored.

"The curse is lifted." Hog whispered. The child-once-a-yeti on his hip clapped little hands. Hoggle too cheered with his, and others followed their way and a roar of applause shook the Labyrinth and made the stars rain down bright cold star-water. It rained over the great maze and every feathered, clawed, fingered creature within it danced in its bright wetness.

Somewhere in the tallest most shadowed tower of the king's castle an owl and his mate had made love and were awakened by a great sound.

"It has happened…" Cerah of the darkest wings gathered her feathered limbs around her naked body and shuffled on quivering legs to the window. Showers of brilliant light lit the sky like fireworks and spilled past her and Cerah stretched her limbs, reaching tired arms toward the dark ceiling, legs elongated and she arched on tiptoe. Her wings flattened and lengthened, spread wide and open, quivering in the ache of the stretch.

"Lovely." Jareth said. He was reclining on the bed, wings curled beneath his body, his left leg was up and his knee made a small mountain. His disheveled hair was still short, but still just on the edge of wild, and glinting with gold. Cerah peered over her wing at him. He was ogling her happily. She smiled content with herself and looked back out the dark window at the star storm. Deep in the lit halls of the Labyrinth she knew were her long lost companions, rejoicing.

"I wonder how it will happen." She mused aloud.

"What? All the mess about natural love and equality?" He grunted. "You believe that gibberish?"

"You did," She turned to face him. "You still do. You know it's true. You could feel it..."

"Maybe you were fooled by how wonderful a bed-mate I am."

"I wouldn't call that a bed."

He looked hurt and ran a caring hand over the rumpled mess of feathers and mattress. "She may be old but she has been through so much with me."

Cerah could imagine him saying something like that about many things; it seemed her husband was a sentimental man for all he may have disagreed.

"I shall ignore that last comment," She stretched again, this time with a devious intent of teasing him. When she peeked out the corner of her eye she saw how easily it had worked.

"Precious," He said. "The world may not be so 'fulfilled' just yet. We may want to make love again, just to be certain."

"You horny old king." Cerah wrinkled her nose.

But she stepped away from the window into the shadow of their chamber.

Hog witnessed her figure vanishing from the frame and smiled, a little sadly, and turned to the crowd of dancing goblin-men and women and other creatures in the frolic and delight. It was not until Cerah and Jareth had finally made a public appearance in the Labyrinth that Hog saw her again. It had been a terribly long celebration, but the trouble was that many of the inhabitants had been spirits of the maze for so long that their homes were no longer even in existence. This was true for Hog and Ludo, Sir Dydimus they could not find, and assumed that he like many others had a home and had returned to it. A good fourth of the inhabitants were gone and away, but it still left a number of homeless, curious newly restored people mulling about the maze. At first, when the eminent partying was finished they had assembled in the Goblin City, made feast of the food that was there and waited in little huddles of friends.

Hog was the first to step up and recognize that even though they had changed they were helpless beyond their ability to fix.

He left Ludo in the care of a strange looking elf-man with blue hair and a red scarf, whose wife had taken a liking to the red-haired child. From their place in the old hovel that had been his own home he marched to the castle. The building too had faced a great change, one which was very physically obvious. Its stones were still sand-colored, but the castle was much stronger looking, with straighter bones and angles like a revived god from the underworld. It towered handsomely over Hog as he approached, but the halls echoed with loneliness and the sound of his feet. There were feathers everywhere. Black and gold, the black glinting blue, the gold glowing radiantly, the feathers were beautiful. Hog reached to pick one up, a dark one and it was light and soft. When he reached for a gold one though he found it was sharp and heavy, and dropped it promptly. He carried the black one with him though as he searched the empty halls. On one side of a hallway there was a row of windows that reached from ground to ceiling, clothed by lavender curtains so soft that when he touched them he could not feel them. Along the other side of the hallway were large dark wood doors, leading to chambers he assumed for royals. He knew that the couple would not be in any of them.

He was about to call out to them, exasperated with his search when Jareth appeared, naked save for a loose pair of breeches.

"Hogbrain?" He was trying to sound a little miffed but there was an uneasy smile fighting to dominate the Goblin King's face.

"Hello... Sir... We- the folk of the Labyrinth... We haven't got a place to stay, our homes are gone and... We were wondering..."

"You're asking me to end my honeymoon early?" Jareth smirked. "I'll try to convince Cerah."

Hog stared awkwardly as he laughed.

Jareth paused in his merriment and stared at him. "Well, laugh."

"Ha." Hog crossed his arms over his chest.

"I see you have a feather." Jareth's voice sounded like low thunder. There was a hint of danger in his voice.

Hog dropped the feather and watched it fall slowly downward in the corner of his eye.

"You should know," Jareth said. "That she is my wife now."

"I know, sir."

"You may be alive and human again," Jareth looked toward the light of the window. "But she is mine."

Hog nodded.

"I know you care for her."

"Yes."

"And you worry I may cause her harm."

"Yes."

"If I ever do..."

Hog waited.

"Will you care for her?"

"Yes." He did not hesitate.

"Jareth!"

Cerah's voice startled them both. It rang like a bell from somewhere upstairs.

"Go to her." Hog said.

"We shall arrive to care for the Labyrinth shortly."

"I'll give you an hour."

"Bless you, Hoghead."

Hog turned and left, following the way out and sat on the steps of the castle quietly. He felt the eyes of an onlooker and searched from the steps of the castle to find the source of the gaze. For a moment near one of the many doorways leading into the great maze he thought he spotted a pair of eyes, eyes he knew quite well. He stood and took a breath that made his lungs ache in the swiftness.

"Who is there?" He shouted. The eyes vanished, but their color was burned into his memory and his heart raced. He sat shakily back down onto the stone step, visions of violet eyes overtaking his eyes. They watered in memories and pain and he sat there crying until the hour had passed and he could hear the approach of the Goblin King and his bride. Together the three descended into the Labyrinth, with Hog trailing behind, searching the crevices and shadows for a ghost he had lost many years before.


	2. Chapter 2

The western mountain air was crisp in the lungs of the young yellow haired minor. He stood at the lip of the mountain, facing the setting sun as it dropped quietly into the wide blue ocean. Around him, the voices of his companions chattered in their fierce native tongue, a bitter sound he could feel in his own throat, even though he was not speaking. The imprint of it lay on his tongue like sand. His father had been a tradesman, and traded more than goods. Languages of all nations and countries had been spoken in his household. The minor loved them all. But his accent he could not shake, even in the beautiful high Fae language his words were clipped and rough. Even his name sounded atrocious in every other language he spoke and eventually he gave up introducing himself to anyone foreign.

Someone called to him. He turned and smiled at his dark haired friend. The dark haired minor was covered in dust and grime and held a little canary in his large hand. The yellow bird was calm in his gentle grip. His friend spoke, and roughly translated came out like this:

"Have you finished your duties for today?"

The yellow-haired minor smiled back. "Yes," He said. "I have finished. Long before you."

"Not everyone can be as fast as Vark."

"I have told you I do not like that nickname, friend." He patted him on the back.

"You grunt and squeal like a hog, why not earn their name?" The dark haired man smiled and pushed his hair from his face.

'Vark' shook his head and looked back out at the sun vanishing in the waters ahead. "Do you ever wonder what lies beyond there?"

"We already know. Just the waters until the cities of the Fae and then even farther the Valley of the Bird-King."

"Don' you ever want to see it?"

"No," His friend laughed. "You have always been strange, Vark. Had you been gifted with great height and looks you may have been mistaken for Fae."

"Being a half-ling ain't so horrible." Vark laughed as well and together the two followed the narrow mountain paths down to the village, releasing their canaries in the yellow woods where they nested, to be fetched by tomorrow's minors.

"See you tonight? I hear the Fae are appearing in the market square for bidding."

Vark paused, just steps from turning down the path to his hut. "Bidding?"

"Selling some of the valley girls for their slaves. Should be a sight. I can fetch you around mid-evening in the cart."

"Well, alright." Vark turned up his path to his birch hut home and shook his head. He hated the way the Fae bartered for their women. But… What lives could they live here?

He remembered the white faces of his sisters, hidden under layers of yellow hair. Each had been sent to the Fae Cities over the ocean, and from them he never heard any word. He prayed for their safety. The little minor town could not have given them much. Few stayed long, families passed through, came and went, earned cheap money with their labor in the mine and left for better lives. Vark was a half-ling, half mortal and half dwarf. It accounted for his love of the rocks and the mines and for all other of his physical tendencies. He was a head smaller than his minor friends, but broader and made of much rougher material. His only true human trait was his yellow hair, bright as corn silk like his sisters and his mother. The dwarf blood had made his sisters pretty and petite with tan skin and lovely limbs. He sighed in remembering them scattered about his hovel, parents long deceased buried far in the mines together. They had danced together near the hearth, cooked sweet meals and frequently vanished away into the woods to do girl things together. Vark had still been able to hear them, giggling and running about.

When he had taken them to town for bidding they were bought all together by a Fae man looking for a harem of mistresses. They left Vark here with the man who bought them, seven golden drops of sunlight taken from his life.

He made a meal of carrots and turnips, the only food in the house at the moment and pledged to better feed himself when he remembered to buy food. He ate quietly and drank water freshly oiled I his kettle. Soon the creak of cart wheels sounded from the path and he abandoned his shabby meal to meet his companion.

Hog stood in the shadow of the Goblin King and his wife quietly as they instructed the gaggle of Labyrinth members in every which way. Homes were found, jobs were established. A new trade was coming underway with the balance of other worlds. Soon, folk of all kinds were going to be running through this place to buy and explore. The Labyrinth was not as accepting of this idea at first, but some sweet talk from its new queen soon had it opening its gates for humans and other folk.

"It will take time," Cerah said with a gentle smile. She was draped over a wall of the labyrinth, her wings hanging on either side. She whispered to it kindly, while Jareth stood nearby with Hog.

"She really is the rightful queen." Jareth mused.

"She is part of this Labyrinth after all." Hog said. "We all are…"

"Hog…"

"Yes, sire?"

"You're seeing her, aren't you?"

The small man stiffened then spoke, in his natural tongue. "Yes, around every corner. And I do not know what to do."

Small Ludo dashed up to Cerah and pleaded with her to fall from the wall to play. Jareth and Hog laughed as she leaped from the ledge of the wall and scooped up the child in her arms. They frolicked in the air and Jareth felt the urge to join them. Hog could sense this and smiled.

"Go on. Play with ur family." He said.

"You are, regretfully, part of my family now as well. Come with me, Hogbrain. We need to speak of this problem."

"Problem?" Cerah had landed beside them and placed Ludo on the ground. The child ran his hands through her volumes of hair.

Hog gave Jareth a look to indicate secrecy, but Jareth ignored him.

"Hog is seeing the eyes of an old… friend… He is seeking a way to revive the spirit." Jareth said and crossed his arms.

Cerah looked at Hog. Her gaze made him blush and he looked away. "Hog, who is this spirit?"

"She is no one." He turned and walked away, down into the Labyrinth and away into its vastness. Before he circled a wall and vanished he heard Cerah gasp.

"I know the story." She said quietly.

Of course, he thought to himself. She would know…

Vark stood by his companions quietly, leaning against the cart, arms folded over his broad chest, eyes turned downward. The crowd around him glowed with the yellow flames of the fire pits and above the crowd in a large carriage covered in gold leaf and pale jewels, from which three figures appeared. He allowed himself one timid gaze upward and saw three figures appear from the carriage. One of the figures that came from the grand vehicle was distinctly shorter than the other two, but this form of Fae was very un-Fae like in her stature. Vark found that once his eyes had received her glory he could not look away. She was a pale, slim figure, youthful and wide-eyed under a veil of the softest violet. The ringlets of hair she wore half up could not be distinguished in color under the veil, but when she drew the material from her square-shaped face Vark could see the volumes of dark, earthly red. It was a stark difference against her skin, white with a young blush. When she removed the veil from under its mystery was revealed a soft pair of wings, butterfly wings that shimmered and fluttered delicately. She turned slightly, away from the crowd and took the arm of the tall Fae man with her, revealing the dip in her sky blue gown which gave room for her wings to blossom.

"Who is that?" Vark found himself whispering.

His companion nudged him with his elbow. "She's no Fae child. She's a goddess. One of the few who have lived among the Earth crawlers."

"Why does she live here?" He asked. His voice could not rise over a hush, for the entire crowd of minors and wives and children were watching silently as the goddess and her attendants stood before the line of women brought to be auctioned. The goddess was expressionless, but Vark could almost swear he saw a deep and troubled sadness in her lavender eyes.

"Can't say. She's famous though, Ma always told stories of her. She is very young. Hardly three years younger than you and I."

"She is a baby."

"A powerful baby."

"But what would she want a she-slave for?"

"Maybe she wants something else."

Vark was shaken silly all of a sudden when he glanced cautiously up again and found the child-goddess walking through the crowd towards him. She was still blank-faced and calm looking, but a slight curve of her pale lips and a droop to her gaze suggested something mournful. He noticed that her little feet were bare.

She and her attendant stopped in front of him. Her silence was making Vark uneasy. He un-crossed his arms and stood there, arms swaying slightly unsure of what to do. Suddenly the youngling in front of him released the arms of her guard and went down on her knees, bowing her head so a little hair ornament glittered up at him on the back of her skull.

Vark stood there shocked for a whisper of a second then he too fell down on his knees. He did not raise his head even when the rustle of her skirt indicated her standing.

The dirt in front of his eyes seemed suddenly very appealing to his terrified mind.

"What is your name, minor?" The attendant to the girl spoke with a voice like cracking thunder.

"If it please ya'," Vark squeaked in the common language of the Fae. "It is a mite bit difficult to pronounce. Most folk call me Vark."

"Vark then," The guard said. "My Lady has chosen you for manservant. She keeps a small household of no other companions and seeks a partner to live with."

Vark did not know what to say.

The guard frowned, but Vark did not see this. "Minor Vark, will you accept the Lady's wish and become her companion? She has chosen you especially."

"She has only just met me." Vark said. "I would not make a good friend to her. I am a coward and a youngling myself."

"Still, we have been watching you for a time and she has chosen you. Do you accept?"

Vark felt even more uneasy and truly a little cross for being under the knowing gaze of a great goddess without noticing himself. He eyed her for a moment, she who's pale eyes stared with more passion and life than he had ever seen, but who's face held no color. He glanced around his little world then, at the faces of those he had known for many years. And decided that he was ready for something new. The coward in him found relief in knowing his companion was gentle looking, though she did not speak. Even as he nodded and she bowed deeply again and walked to her carriage. She dropped a small sack of gold on the ground and gathered her flowing skirts, thin gauzy material and wrapped her shining veil over herself again. Vark followed in her glowing wake, feeling clumsy and heavy as he stumbled into the carriage and settled at her feet on the ground by her cushion within. The two attendants shuffled in as well and took their place opposite the seat she sat in. She watched Vark from under her veil and when she thought he was perhaps not looking he saw her smile and her grip on her own fingers tighten. Color warmed his face and he smiled up at her.

"What is my Lady's name?" He asked. For a moment he forgot his own. Her lips parted and a gentle voice, middle ground between low and high, whispered back to him. The sound of her name sent a strange cold happiness through him and he said it over and over to himself as they drove farther and farther from his mountain home.

"Hedone…" He whispered. "Hedone…"


End file.
